


conversations

by casdoms (moffwithhishead)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Tag, Gen, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Season/Series 11, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7842010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moffwithhishead/pseuds/casdoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck just laughs and shakes his head, the fondness unmistakable, “Not everything falls on your shoulders, Dean.”</p><p>He smiles, meeting Dean’s eyes, “You are a good man, Dean, and a strong one at that... but you’re not Atlas. Nobody said you had to carry the weight of the world.”</p><p>“Yeah, well,” Dean tries for flippant but it just sounds desperate, “It’s kinda my thing I guess.” </p><p>And Chuck just watches him for a moment, that stupid smile never leaving his face. Dean kinda wants to punch him for it.</p><p>“I can see why Castiel fell for you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	conversations

**Author's Note:**

> okay so, here's the deal: I found the first half of this in my drafts on tumblr. I don't remember when I started it (I'm guessing after they found out Chuck was god in the show)... but I finished it? yay? (edit: according to tumblr I wrote the first half of this on may 6th...... oops)
> 
> it jumps from that episode to after s11. unbeta'd like everything I do. I hope this makes some sort of sense.

_"I am coming_  
_for all the monsters that ever touched him,_  
_I am coming_  
_for all the ones who twisted his stars into shadows,_  
_They turned him into a nightmare,_  
_So I’m going to be theirs.”_

_and they’ll never wake up //[k.s.](http://worthystevie.tumblr.com/)_

 

* * *

 

 

Three hours.

That’s all Dean lasts before he blurts out a panicked, “ ** _Why_**?”

Chuck - no, God - stops talking mid-sentence at the interruption and watches Dean with a blank expression. It makes Dean’s hands shake nervously, his whole body vibrating with thirty plus years of pent up anger and resentment.

“You know,” Chuck sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, “People keep asking me that like I’m supposed to know what you mean.” 

Dean huffs a disbelieving sound and runs a hand over his face, “Take your fucking pick, you douchecanoe.” He laughs a little hysterically as he holds up his fingers to count them off, “Why did I have to be the one to get the Mark? Why is it me and Sammy who always get the fucking short straw? Why did my mom have to die? Why do you hate me so fucking much?” 

He’s almost crying and no, he won’t do that. He won’t give Chuck the satisfaction.

“Why did Cas say yes to Lucifer?” His voice cracks a little at that, “Why -” Dean clears his throat and braces himself on the table, “How is it that you’re such a fucking coward and Cas - your kid. Your **_son_**. How... why does he keep doing this shit?” 

Dean looks up at Chuck and it takes everything he has not to punch the calm face watching him. “Why does he always have to get hurt?”

Chuck sighs and sets his beer down on the war room table, looking intently at the maps in front of him.

He’s directly across from Dean and it’s a purposeful thing. He’s just far enough that he’s out of arm’s reach but close enough that Dean doesn’t feel alone in this conversation. It’s infuriatingly comforting.

“I wish I had answers for you, Dean.” Chuck looks up at him again and sighs, “I truly wish I had answers for you... but I don’t.” 

He doesn’t let Dean say anything before he starts talking again.

“I don’t know why you agreed to take on the Mark, Dean. I have my guesses but hell, I’m not in your head, dude.” Chuck takes a sip of his beer before continuing, “And as for you and Sam... you were born to be the vessels for the apocalypse. I was a different guy back then, Dean, you gotta understand that.”

He leans forward on the table, his hands curled around the beer, “I’ve done everything I can to help you and your brother. Your mother...” 

Chuck cuts himself off and runs a hand over his face, “Your mother was... my fault. She was a casualty that only happened because of a plan I’d in motion thousands of years before you were even a blip on the radar.” He fiddles with the label on the bottle, frowning, “I... I am sorry. Truly.” 

Dean laughs a little hysterically, “Well that’s - that’s just.” He runs his hands through his hair a little aggressively, wanting to throw something, “That’s just fan-friggin’-tastic isn’t it. You’re **_sorry_**.” 

The answering laugh he gets makes Dean puff up angrily, his nostrils flaring, “Are you _laughing_ at me?” 

“No...” Chuck promises through a chuckle before shaking his head, “Okay. A little bit.”

He holds his hands out in a placating gesture when Dean looks like he’s seriously considering setting the guy on fire, “I’m sorry, I just -” Chuck smiles tiredly, a little sad, “I think I get it now.” 

Dean gapes, completely at a loss for words.

Chuck stands up as he finishes the last swig of his beer, “When I first created Castiel I knew that there was a flaw in his... code, I guess would be the correct word to use there.” 

He tosses the bottle into the recycling bin without looking. 

“You see,” Chuck moves so he’s resting against a wall. “Angels? They’re not made in my image. I know that there’s a lot of discourse about that but nah, that’s stupid.” He laughs and gestures up and down himself, “I mean, if you’re the only deity in the universe, why the **_fuck_** would you create something that could overtake you one day, right?” 

Dean just nods absently, his hands gripping the chair in front of him. 

Chuck grows somber and thoughtful after a moment, taking his time picking out the right words.

“Castiel...” He licks his lips, “Okay.” Chuck claps his hands together, “Brownies.”

“Uh,” Dean blinks at the segue, unsure what to say.

“For the sake of the explanation let’s say: me - God - **_I’m_** the triple chocolate brownies that you only make on special occasions.”  He starts looking more excited now that he’s figured out a way to explain it, “And the angels - they’re just plain old brownies.”

Chuck walks over to Dean and stops two chairs away from him, his grin from ear to ear, “Castiel was the batch of the regular brownies that got too much chocolate. He was the batch of brownies that are somewhere in the middle of the two. Too chocolaty to truly fit in with the other brownies - the angels - but not chocolaty enough to fit in with me.” 

Dean swallows nervously, resisting the urge to take a step back, “I’m not sure how that’s supposed to be an answer for me, Chuck.”

Chuck’s smile is kind, if not a little pitying, “Castiel was a mistake... but he is, in many ways, a better person than I ever was.” 

He sets a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “I believe you’ve heard it before but Castiel’s biggest problem is that he cares too much. His heart is too big and all that.”

“Yeah,” Dean chokes out a laugh, “I’ve noticed.”

“I know it’s hard to accept, Dean... but the only answer I have for you is that the reason Castiel is so brave and -” Chuck pauses to huff out a laugh, “Well, let’s be honest. A little stupid sometimes - is because he cares...”

Chuck moves so he’s looking Dean in the eye, “About you.”

The room is entirely too quiet. Sam is in the kitchen banging pots and pans around, trying to heat up some water for tea or something, but all Dean can hear is his heart hammering in his ears.

Chuck’s demeanor changes abruptly, shifting from somber to something with a more cheerful edge as he takes a few steps away, “Now, that’s not to say it’s your fault...” He turns around to smile at Dean, “But he has learned a thing or two about being a self-sacrificing idiot from you and your brother.”

A panicked sound crawls its way out of Dean’s chest and he thinks it’s supposed to be a laugh but he can barely breathe.

“Failing to see how this isn’t my fault then.” 

Chuck just laughs and shakes his head, the fondness unmistakable, “Not everything falls on your shoulders, Dean.”

He smiles, meeting Dean’s eyes, “You are a good man, Dean, and a strong one at that... but you’re not Atlas. Nobody said you had to carry the weight of the world.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean tries for flippant but it just sounds desperate, “It’s kinda my thing I guess.” 

And Chuck just watches him for a moment, that stupid smile never leaving his face. Dean kinda wants to punch him for it.

“I can see why Castiel fell for you.”

 _Hate_ is an awfully strong word but it’s the only thing coming to mind right now.

He grits his teeth and glares, his fists flexing at his sides. 

“Calm down, Dean,” Chuck huffs fondly and makes a placating gesture with his hands. “It was just an observation.” 

Dean wants to growl or lash out but he instead he just closes his eyes.

“Chuck -” His voice sounds more raw than he’s comfortable with and he takes a second to roll his shoulders. He’s not sure why it bothers him so much - it’s not like it’s new information.

The sky is blue, healthy grass is green, Sam is abnormally tall and Cas is in love with Dean. Simple.

He’s spent the last, what, seven plus years hearing it from every single person, being, deity or entity that they’ve come across? He can be thickheaded at times but he’s not stupid.

“Oh c’mon man,” Chuck sighs tiredly, suddenly sounding frustrated. “You _know_ why that pisses you off.”

Dean doesn’t deign that with a response and just huffs, turning around to face the wall. Maybe if he pretends Chuck isn’t there, he’ll go away. He’ll just stop existing.

“That’s not how this works...” 

He hears the chair shift but doesn’t turn around, doesn’t respond, doesn’t react.

“Castiel fell in love with you a long time ago, Dean...” Chuck’s footsteps get closer until he’s right behind him, close enough to touch. 

“And you fell for him a long time ago too, didn’t you?”

Dean spins around so fast it catches them both off guard. “Shut. Up.” He has to force the words out and his hands are bunched up into fists at his sides.

For his part, Chuck doesn’t blink. He just _smiles_ and Dean feels his blood pressure skyrocket. His instincts kick in and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s got Chuck pinned to the wall. 

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Dean growls, his nostrils flaring. “Don’t you dare stand there and, and -”

“And what, Dean?” Chuck smiles serenely, his voice infuriatingly calm. “Be honest?”

Dean slams him against the wall one more time and hisses, “You don’t get to talk about him like that, okay? You of all fucking people don’t get to stand there and tell me that we’re a couple of fucking idiots.” 

He lets his arms drop and takes two steps back from Chuck, pointing a finger at him, “You. You’re the reason all of this happened.”

Chuck looks mildly annoyed but just smooths a hand over his hoodie, “Dean, we’ve been over this.”

“Oh boo friggin’ hoo,” Dean mocks, his face screwing up in disgust as his voice jumps an octave. “’ _I’m God, I fucked off hundreds of years ago and let humans destroy themselves and now everybody blames me for it._ ’” His voice goes back to normal, “ ** _Boo fucking hoo_** , asshat.” 

Chuck _laughs_.

He actually full on laughs and Dean feels like he might have the Mark again with how angry he suddenly is.

“You watched EVERYTHING,” Dean shouts at him, his hands coming up to grip at his own hair. “YOU WATCHED CAS DIE. YOU WATCHED ME LOSE HIM OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND YOU JUST FUCKING LET IT HAPPEN, OKAY?”

Chuck sighs, “Dean, it was all part of -”

Dean laughs a little hysterically and covers his face with his hands for a moment.

“It was all part of your _plan_? Fuck you, Chuck.”

He drops his hands after a moment and he knows he’s got tears in his eyes but he’s not gonna let Chuck win here. Not right now.

“You just sat back and watched our lives go to shit again and again and again and again. You watched me lose him more times than I care to remember. So, no. No, you don’t get to stand there and tell me that we’re perfect for each other or that he’s been in love with me for years. You don’t get to tell me how _I_ feel about Cas. You don’t get to stand there and...” 

Dean clears his throat and stubbornly rubs a hand over his face, “You don’t get to stand there and talk to me like I’m an idiot, okay? Not about this.”

He lets out a breath and looks up at Chuck, his blood pressure settling when he sees that he looks a little startled.

“Yeah, I love him.” Dean says it so matter-of-factly and with more confidence than he’s ever felt in his entire life that it catches even him by surprise.

He holds his hands out and shrugs, laughing helplessly, “I do. I have for years. But...” Dean shakes his head sadly, letting his hands drop, “Cas already has a target strapped to his back. If I...”

Dean huffs and runs a hand through his hair, “If I told him that? ...man, I don’t want to know what would happen to him.”

He sets a hand on the table and sighs, exhausted.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Chuck, but me and Sammy? We don’t have a lot of people left. We don’t got any family except each other...” Dean looks up, smiling sadly, “And sometimes, we even have Cas.”

“Look... everybody I’ve ever loved, like for real loved, is dead, Chuck. And I’m no good without Cas. I’ve tried it and...” He laughs, shaking his head, “I need him, okay? He can’t become another name on the list of people who’ve died because of us. He just... he just can’t.”

Chuck is mercifully quiet for a few minutes as Dean straightens up and wipes his face off. He even lets Dean walk over to the drink cart and pour himself a whiskey before he says, “I call bullshit.”

Dean turns around slowly, the tumbler halfway to his mouth. “... _what_?”

“I...” Chuck takes a step closer with each word, over-enunciating it just to rile Dean up, “Call... Bullshit.”

Dean’s so shocked he just gapes at him.

“You’re right,” Chuck shrugs, “I watched all of that shit happen to you guys.” He crosses his arms over his chest and suddenly looks an awful lot like a dad gearing up for a lecture.

“And I gave Cas back to you **every** _single_ time.” Chuck’s face goes dark and he takes a step closer to Dean, “I’ve told you Dean, free will has good and bad side effects. And it’s not my problem nor is it my responsibility to police how my creations use it.”

He’s got Dean backed up against the table now, the room feeling heavy and making it a little hard to breathe.

“I am your Creator, Dean Winchester, but I am **not** your babysitter. I am not your guardian angel, it is not my job to keep you or your family alive. The world does not revolve around you or your needs.”

He practically sneers at the last part and Dean shrinks in a little on himself. 

Chuck is quiet for a beat and he seems to deflate somewhat, the righteous fury from a moment ago dissipating.

“I have...” His voice is quiet and considering as he looks Dean over carefully, reading him like a book. “I have always tried to help you and your brother when I could, Dean. And I have tried to be there for you as much as I could without interfering directly.”

Dean swallows and manages a weak, “Thanks...?”

It manages to make Chuck smile a tiny bit.

“Listen, dude,” he starts again after a moment. “I get why you’re scared. I do. I’ve had a front row seat to every shitty part of your life and I get why you think that long ass speech you gave me a few minutes ago is true.”

Chuck laughs to himself and suddenly takes a big step back, turning around theatrically, “You fell in love with an angel!”

He’s grinning when he turns back to Dean, “You, card carrying member of the Atheists, fell in love with an honest to God angel of the fucking Lord, Dean Winchester. And even though he’s been in your life for longer than either one of you truly grasp, that _still_ scares the shit out of you.” 

Dean’s frozen in place, his mouth opening and closing every few seconds like a fish. 

Chuck’s grin turns a little softer and a lot kinder after a beat.

“He really does love you, you know. He’s probably my greatest creation in the universe and he’s hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with you, Dean Winchester.”

Dean swallows nervously and looks down at his boots. 

Chuck sets a hand on his arm, "It’s okay to be scared. Love is scary.”

“But Dean...” He ducks down so Dean has no choice but to look him in the eye, “If you want that with Cas? That whole ‘apple pie life’ forever type of thing? All you have to do is ask him. And he’s gonna say yes.”

Dean hates how much his voice is shaking when he says, “Well... that’s all well and good, Chuck. But it doesn’t mean jack shit if we don’t save him.”

He just smiles and squeeze’s Dean’s shoulder, “Well, let’s do it then.”

* * *

 

The reunion with his mother is awkward at best but Dean’s cell reception sucks and he has to tell Cas and Sam that he’s alive. He pulls Mary with him to the parking lot next to the cemetery and hot wires the first car he sees that doesn’t look like it has a GPS tracker in it. 

When they pull out onto the interstate he sends a quick text to both Sam and Cas and gets a text from Cas’ number with coordinates and a sheepish request for a ride about two minutes later.

He drives like a madman down the interstate and thanks every single fucking deity in the universe, including the two that just fucked off to God knows where (literally), that there’s no police out here. 

“Honey,” Mary says carefully, like she doesn’t want to upset him, “Maybe you should slow down...”

Dean snorts a little bit, “No offense mom, but I’ll slow down when we’re on our way home with Cas in the car.”

Mary doesn’t say anything after that and just turns up the radio. The GPS on Dean’s phone (and she still can’t believe _that’s_ what a cell phone looks like now) tells them that they will arrive at their destination in five minutes. 

When the phone informs them that they have arrived at their destination, Mary seriously questions whether or not this ‘technology’ thing is any good.

They’re on the bank of a river and Dean looks alarmingly close to kelly green.

He throws the driver’s side door open and runs down the bank shouting, “CAS?! CAS, ANSWER ME, MAN!”

Mary steps out of the car after a moment and sighs, pulling Dean’s jacket tighter around her shoulder’s. The place looks like nobody’s set foot here in years and they’re a good fifteen miles off the interstate. She doubts anybody is actually going to be here. 

Of course, that’s the exact moment when a man steps out of the trees soaking wet and looking absolutely stunned.

She freezes in place, mentally categorizing what’s around her that she could use as a weapon before she feels a gust of wind blow by her. 

Dean closes the few feet between her and the stranger in seconds and practically tackles him to the ground in a hug.

The stranger (Cas, she’s guessing) returns the hug just as fiercely and tucks his face into her son’s neck with an awed, “Dean... I didn’t... I didn’t think it was -”

“Yeah,” he laughs a little manically, his whole body trying to curl protectively around his friend. “Yeah man, it’s me. It’s real. I’m real.”

She gives them a few moments before clearing her throat and trying to hide her grin when Dean leaps away just as quickly as he had pulled Cas into the hug.

“We’re very glad you’re okay, Cas,” Mary says quietly.

"Oh shit sorry!” Dean pulls Cas a little closer to her by his hand and gestures in between the two of them, “Cas, this is... my mom.”

Castiel doesn’t let Dean’s hand go when he smiles, “It is an honor, Mary.”

She laughs quietly before pulling him into a hug, “I’m sure it’s an honor to meet you too.”

When they pull back from the hug she doesn’t miss the way that Dean twines his and Castiel’s fingers together. She gives her son a significant look and he just blushes, looking away. 

They all stand there like that for a few minutes, not really sure what to say, before Dean eventually clears his throat.

“Okayyy, awkward meeting of the parents aside, we gotta get home.”

Castiel nods, cringing a little, “Yes... and I will fill you in on the way.”

“Me too,” Dean agrees with a small smile. 

Mary follows the two of them to the car, far enough away not to intrude but close enough to hear their quiet conversation. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Cas...?”

“I should be asking you that.”

“I’m fine. You’re the one who got thrown through time and space.”

“This is an impressively impractical car you’ve stolen, Dean.”

“Don’t try to change the subject you dick, I see that cut on your forehead.”

“I’m serious. This car gets what? Two, three miles to the gallon?”

“Oh don’t start Cas.”

She just smiles and gets into the backseat of the car, not that either one of them seems to notice with their bickering. 

And she returns the favor by pretending not to notice when Dean grabs Castiel’s hand once their on the road again. She also doesn’t notice Castiel’s soft smile and the tips of Dean’s ears turning pink.

Dean clears his throat after a beat, “Let’s go home, guys.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at deansmom


End file.
